Put Your Records On
by amyduckpond
Summary: In which Maddie shuffles her iPod and writes one-shots/drabbles based off the songs that play. The ratings vary, but they're listed at the top along with any other information about the the story. That's all I have as far as an explanation, so enjoy! :
1. What If

_**What If, Coldplay**_

_**Setting: Right at the start of junior year for Rachel, freshman year for Jesse.**_

_**Rating: K+ (there's one curse word, so I guess if that's offensive than T, but I'm assuming most of you are okay with profanity) **_

* * *

It was only a week into the new school year and all Jesse St. James could think about were two big brown eyes that belonged to one Rachel Berry.

This was college; he's _supposed_ to be fucking every girl he saw, going to parties, being lead in the musical, and have a partner-in-crime, so to speak, to go along with him for all of this; while he does have the partner in crime, otherwise known at Matt, he's done hardly anything else according to plan.

In the musical, his role is small at best, and the only parties he goes to are either lame or he decides to leave for the same reason he hasn't slept with the amount of girls that he had in high school: Rachel.

It was stupid, really; _he _had ended things with her; _he _had made the clear decision that he didn't want her in his life. Except, he did; all Jesse wanted was to hear her laugh; see her smile; watch her roll her eyes at his smirk that he knew she secretly loved.

But now, all of that was gone, and it was his entire fault.

He knows that if he calls, she'll never answer. If he texts, she'd probably delete it without reading it; even writing a letter would lead him to suspect that she'd burn it, that was, if she wasn't Rachel Berry.

A call, text, or facebook message wouldn't get her attention; that he knew, but a legitimate, hand-written letter? He knew himself well enough to know that Rachel couldn't resist how dramatic it would seem; him writing her a letter after a devastating break up and summer apart.

So, Jesse St. James sits down, swallows his pride, and begins to write. What, he isn't quite sure, but he has a point to make, and he is damn sure that he's going to.

* * *

Rachel came home to an empty house, quickly noticing a note on the table from her fathers saying they're having dinner with a few friends and that they'll be back soon; it was typical. She loved them both, but they often enjoyed spending time with friends and co-workers. Not that she minded; it was nice having time to herself after school where she was constantly tormented about her clothes, talent, or anything else someone can find.

What sits next to post-it note catches her eye, though; an envelope with her name written on it in nice handwriting. She couldn't imagine anyone who would wish to write her a letter; she saw her friends, or whatever you would call them, on a daily basis, and most of her family had cut off most interaction with her and her dads due to her fathers homosexuality. They sent her money for birthdays and holidays, but that was it.

Taking the letter and beginning to examine it, she walks upstairs and sits on her bed, making sure the door is shut so if her fathers walk in they won't see the letter until after she was done reading it. Whoever had written it obviously took time on it and, admittedly, it made her feel somewhat special; especially after another slushie incident that had occurred earlier.

She slowly opens the envelope, being careful not to rip anything, and smoothes out the cream colored paper; the handwriting still as neat as it was on the envelope.

_Dear Rachel,_

_ Before you toss this aside or burn it as I suspect you would want to do with anything I try to give you, please listen to me. It's my freshman year here at UCLA, and, although I had hoped that I would have you out of my mind by now, I don't. I know that probably doesn't sound very heart-warming, but since I know you probably want nothing to do with me anymore, it only makes sense that I try to move on as well. The problem with my idea though, is that it's not possible. There is no way to get over you, Rachel, because frankly, I'm still in love with you. _

_ I know that everyone around you, and quite possibly you yourself, have tried to convince you that I don't, or that I never did. Please know that all of that is a lie. I wasn't __**supposed **__to love you; that doesn't mean I don't or never did. The truth is that since we sang Hello in that music store I knew I was doomed. You were the only other person to ever truly understand me; all of me. You quickly saw through my façade and show-face I put on for everyone, only because I know you do the same thing._

_ I may have known what I was doing at first, but you have to understand I never believed I would fall for you. I thought simply that I was going to date you for however long it took for you to figure out who Shelby was, and then I would get over you, simple as that. Instead, I dated you, you found out who Shelby was, and I left; however, somewhere along the way, I let my guard down. Around you, I wasn't Jesse St. James, star of Vocal Adrenaline, I really was Jesse St. James, the guy who was nuts about you. _

_ I realize that by now, I've probably wasted enough of your time. While this letter was quite possibly the hardest thing I've ever done in my life, other than drop that egg on your head, I know that it's probably done nothing to change your mind about me. You're probably dating Huds– Finn and, although it kills me to say so, I hope the two of you are happy. _

_ In the wise words of Miss Adele, "I'll find someone like you." Except, I know that, in reality, that isn't possible, because there is no one like you, Rachel. Maybe sometime in the future we'll see each other again and you will have found it in your heart to forgive me, after all if we're both going to be on Broadway we're bound to be in a show together, but if not, I would completely understand. _

_ So, in other words, I guess this letter is my final goodbye, since we never got a proper one and I don't expect you to reply to this. All I ask is that no matter what anyone says or whatever you tell yourself, I did love you, and I suspect that I always will._

_ Forever yours,_

_ Jesse_

Rachel leans back onto the headboard of her bed, while she fully tries to process the letter sitting before her. He _loved, _no– _loves, _her? She takes another glance at the letter and wishes she could say it didn't matter; that the letter literally did _nothing _for her, but it did.

Whether or not Jesse knows it, what he did, what he wrote, is starting to make Rachel doubt everything.

She neatly folds the paper and places it back the envelope, hiding it under her pillow since no one will find it there, and she won't forget about it. Part of her wonders if she should call him, but by now she's finally starting to get over him. Over the summer she had gone on a few dates with Finn and although they weren't yet dating, she suspected they would soon. She couldn't just drop everything over a letter some guy wrote her that's currently miles and miles away.

With a sigh, Rachel turns on her iPod speakers and puts them on shuffle and almost laughing at the irony that the first song played is 'Someone Like You', the very song mentioned in Jesse's letter.


	2. I Believe

_**I Believe, Spring Awakening Original Broadway Cast**_

_**Setting: New Directions just returned from Nationals in New York (summer after junior year).**_

* * *

"You will _never_ guess what the local theater is doing this summer for their production!" Rachel exclaims as she walks into the choir room quickly. They had just come back from a devastating loss at Nationals, but this had made almost everything okay; oh and she had gotten back with Finn; that was nice too.

"Nor do we care, but you're going to tell us anyway," Santana sneers from across the room, giving one of her signature eye rolls. Although Rachel had bounced back from the loss quickly, most people in New Directions hadn't.

Ignoring the Latina's remark, Rachel continues happily, "Spring Awakening!"

Everyone except for Kurt, who knew Broadway musicals almost as much as she did, and surprisingly Tina, gave her a blank look, causing a loud sigh to leave her lips as she went into a longer explanation.

"It's a beautiful Broadway musical that I highly recommend you all decide to look up, as there are probably recorded versions of it currently on YouTube."

Just as she begins to go into a full explanation of the tragic relationship between Melchoir and Wendla and troubles of Moritz, Artie cuts her off, "is that the one where they have sex or something?"

Puck gives an appreciative nod while Tina confirms Arties suspicion and Rachel rolls her eyes, "Yes, but that's not the point–"

Mercedes looks over at Quinn, adding to the madness that suddenly seemed to begin, "well whatever it is, I'm sure I'd be perfect for lead."

The statement practically made Rachel's blood boil; Spring Awakening had been one of her favorite musicals for a while; she was _born _to play Wendla. "You can't just audition for Spring Awakening without even knowing what it's about."

"And why can't she?" Quinn retorts, glaring her eyes and completely ready to pounce on whatever Rachel gave as an answer; while some had been upset over loosing Nationals, Quinn was more upset about losing Finn.

"I am simply saying that one cannot audition for such an intense role without understanding any of the back-story," she answers calmly, trying to keep any trouble from happening.

Just as Mercedes crossed her arms ready to go off on Rachel, Mr. Schue walks into the choir room, tells everyone to sit down, and writes another random assignment on the board that is an attempt to bring up spirits about the Nationals loss and the fact summer will soon be upon everyone.

* * *

Although Mercedes, along with the assistance from Quinn, Santana, and Brittany purely to spite Rachel, had auditioned for Wendla, Rachel had, in fact, gotten the role. Even Tina, who auditioned for Ilse, had gotten in.

So now, Tina and Rachel practically bounce into the theater, talking about how excited they are for their first rehearsal and gossiping about who will play Melchoir Gabor.

Rachel hadn't exactly explained to Finn the part in Spring Awakening that included her and whoever was to play Melchoir in a rather intimate position. Tina knew of his ignorance and, although she had urged Rachel to tell him, understood why the girl was nervous to.

As both girls make their way down the aisle, they immediately strike up conversation with the other girls in the production.

"Did you hear who's playing Melchoir?" Samantha, who Rachel soon learns is playing Martha, asks the girls gathered around her.

Everyone shakes their head just as someone walks into the theater automatically calling out to one of his friends in the cast. Rachel freezes; she knows that voice, and she knows full well that there's only one character in this musical he would play.

"It's Jesse St. James, isn't it?" she questions Samantha, who nods enthusiastically. The rest of the girls begin freaking out while Tina gives Rachel a worried glance.

_Of course, _Rachel thinks; if she thought Finn would be upset about 'I Believe' number, this was going to make things twenty times worse.


	3. Video Killed the Radio Star

_**Video Killed the Radio Star, The Buggles**_

_**Setting: Rachel & Jesse living in a crappy New York apartment, happily married**_

_**AN: I have this headcanon that Rachel's dads, along with showtunes of course, played 80s music all the time when Rachel was little. **_

* * *

"You do _not _have this song on your iPod," Jesse looks at Rachel with a mixture of disbelief and amusement on his face as _Video Killed the Radio Star_ begins to fill the room from the dock her iPod was currently connected to.

"It was the first music video on MTV; it's practically music history." She replies with a shrug, turning back around to continue making dinner for the two.

He walks up to the counter between the living room and kitchen, placing his elbows onto it, "but it's practically the most cheesy 80s song there is."

"Says the man with Queen taking up half of his music library," she retorts with a laugh. He points at her, "Hey, Queen is quality. Not some 80s one hit wonder."

Rachel tilts her head and looks at him, "but Queen was still making music in the 80s."

"Yeah but they weren't one-hit wonders," he points out, sure that out of all the arguments they both got into over music, he could win this one. She turns towards him, placing her hands on her hips, "Oh come on, not all one-hit wonders suck. Plus it's 80s music; you can_not _go wrong with that."

Jesse lets out a laugh and walks over to her, "trust me; you can go _very _wrong with 80s music."

"Jesse St. James, you are a music snob," she retorts, crossing her arms firmly.

"Rachel St. James, you have little taste in music," he says, almost mirroring her own words.

She gasps dramatically, acting as if what he had said was the most terrible thing in the world, "you know I hope you enjoy sleeping on the couch." He wraps his arms around her waist, concealing his laughter with a smirk, "I hope you enjoy spending a night in bed without me." Rachel glares at him, her arms still crossed even though now he was standing with his around her, "I hate you."

"You love me," he replies with a knowing smile. She rolls her eyes with a sigh, "Yeah, yeah; you're lucky I do."

Her arms move around his neck and he leans down to kiss her, but the couple was quickly interrupted by the fire alarm blaring through the apartment.

Rachel quickly turns around and begins trying to beat the small fire down with a washcloth, while Jesse attempts to locate the fire hydrant he knew they kept somewhere in the kitchen since Rachel had always persisted they kept one around.

After finally finding it, he releases the foamy substance on the fire, covering half of his wife who was standing in the line of fire.

She turns towards him, remaining silent for a minute, while he shrugs innocently.

"Have I ever mentioned I hate you?" she questions while walking over to Jesse, collecting the foam into her hands.

"I think you may have mentioned it," he answers hesitantly, backing up from Rachel, nervous about why she was beginning to collect foam.

"Good," she replies, jumping forward and dispensing all of the substance she had collected onto his hair.

He stands there for a second, nodding slowly, "You know what?" She raises an eyebrow, waiting for his answer with a smirk covering her face. "I hate you too," he answers her unsaid question.

"I know," she replies happily, getting up on her tiptoes to crash her lips with his.


	4. Gold

_**Gold, Once the Musical **_

_**Setting: AU. Rachel runs away from Lima to NYC, where Jesse co-owns and sings at a local coffee shop. (Loosely based off Once)**_

_**Rating: K+ **_

_**AN: I'd actually really like to turn this into a fic, but I have a few I need to finish beforehand. I'd love to hear what you think though, so maybe if people like it I could eventually make it one.**_

* * *

He's convinced he's never seen a girl more beautiful than she is; he doesn't even know her, but he does know he's never seen anyone like her.

Jesse stands on the stage in a small café, his audience being the rest of the waiters there, and a few customers that like to come the days he plays (which is almost every night now) to listen. The place is dimly-lit, but the food is decent and the coffee is cheap, but good; overall it is nice, especially since not _too_ many people know about it.

The brunette who had walked in the door moments ago was the girl that caught his eye. She doesn't look like she belongs to the city, but she doesn't look like she a tourist either. He wants to jump off stage immediately and talk to her, but the very thought was far too capricious, especially for someone whose name he doesn't even know.

He continues to sing, catching the occasional glance at whatsername; by now she's sitting at one of the booths in the back, her body facing him, but, due to the lack of lighting, he can't tell if she's looking at him or the coffee cup in front of her.

After he finishes his last song, he puts his guitar up, and heads behind the counter. Although he prefers to spend his time playing on stage, that doesn't bring in as much money as he wishes it would, so, even though he is the co-owner, most of his time is spent behind the counter, making and serving the coffee.

He leaves the actual duties to Sarah, one of the waitresses, and takes two cups over to the table the girl, who has yet to have a name, is sitting.

"You aren't from around here are you?" He asks, placing one cup in front of her.

She slides the empty cup she had still been clutching, and reaches for the new one that's now sitting in front of her. He wonders if she's gone through some trauma or something. The way she holds tightly onto the mug looks like she's searching for protection, but, then again, she hasn't said two words to him yet; maybe she's completely fine.

"Is it that obvious?" she asks with a groan, but an amused smile to accompany it.

"We can just say I have great intuition for these kinds of things if you want," Jesse answers with a smirk. "Jesse," he introduces himself, his smirk turning into a gentle smile; after all, he has no idea why she's in a coffee shop alone, and not from around New York City, and maybe being gentile is the best way to take things right now.

"Rachel," she smiles at him. "I liked your song," she motions towards the stage where he was previously singing, "You wrote it, correct?"

His hand automatically starts to nervously run through his hair, "Yeah, I write all my stuff."

"Who was that one about? That last one you sang, about leaving?" She asks inquisitively.

"Do you really need to ask?" Jesse raises an eyebrow at her; she may be different than most girls he knows, but that doesn't change the fact that he just met her, and he isn't one to open up quickly.

Rachel nods, "fair enough."

"You know, you ask a lot of questions," he says, "So what _are_ you doing here? Clearly you aren't from around here, but this place isn't exactly on the tourist map."

"Well actually I've _just _moved here; it's been about three hours, I think?" she suddenly turns sheepish, "and when I was walking by here I happened to overhear the waitresses talking about how someone quit recently…"

"And you want a job?" he finishes for her; leaving out the fact the person who had quit was who his previous song was about.

Rachel shuts her eyes tightly and lets out a sigh. "_Please," _she pleads, "I have about fifty dollars to my name total; I'm staying in a cheap hotel until I can find an even cheaper apartment. I can make the coffee, and I can sing too, I could add piano to your songs."

He looks at her for a minute; her brown eyes begging for him to give her what may possibly be her only chance, and he's almost surprised she isn't on the ground at his feet with how desperate she looks. Finally, he lets out a sigh, "okay, you start tomorrow."

Jesse wants to think this is a good idea, but, in all honesty, he has no idea how it'll work out. All he does know is that there's more to her than just a girl that decided to move to New York City, and he's _almost_ desperate to find out what that is.


End file.
